If The Winter Sun Should Set
by Adir Al-Assad
Summary: When Percy was a child, he used to think that winter was the place where all the other seasons went to die. Percy finds himself introspective on a cold winter day. Paul pulls him out of his own head. Paul/Percy . SLASH.


**If the Winter Sun Should Set****--**EKB

Dusk found Percy by the old wooden fence at the edge of the property line, in the fast-fading light of that late winter afternoon. Somehow Paul had known where to find him, had expected to find him here in the snow-covered clearing, a solitary splash of color against a canvas of dead hues. What he had not expected was how taken he was by the sight. Errant flakes of white sifted down around him from a slate-grey sky that looked as if it might crack and fall to earth, shard by frozen shard.

The sound of Paul's footfalls seemed too loud in the black-and-white silence. He felt like an intruder who was interrupting some intimate moment, some unspoken conversation between Percy and the cold December wind. He approached carefully, deftly, until he came to stand directly behind the younger man. If Percy were conscious of his presence there at all, he made no effort to show it. Paul's voice might have come from worlds away when he spoke--"Percy?"--reaching out a hand and letting it come to rest lightly on the other's shoulder.

"Sun sure does drop earlier and earlier these days, don't it?" Percy's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," replied Paul, for lack of a better answer. He closed the space between himself and Percy from behind, wrapping both arms around his slender waist. God, he was so _cold_, thought Paul; the thin red sweater he wore was plastered to his body, soaked clean through by the snow. Paul didn't bother asking how long Percy had been standing out here in the cold. _Long enough, _Percy would have said, and Paul would merely have shaken his head at him as he always did. They stood a long moment in silence, staring out at the snow-covered landscape beyond the broken-down fence.

"When I was a child," Percy spoke abruptly, "I used to think that winter was the place where all the other seasons went to die." He turned in Paul's arms to face him, those unusually bright cobalt eyes searching his face for answers to questions he already knew he wouldn't have. "Paul, where do you think we go when we die? Do you suppose there's another life after this one?" Paul blinked, bewildered.

"Well," he ventured, "I believe that the soul of a man moves on after he's gone, but as for the where and the why--" He trailed off, shrugged. "Percy, where in the _world_ is all this coming from?"

"I don't want to die, Paul. I'm afraid." There was urgency in his tone that bordered on full-blown panic, as if he believed that danger was imminent and in close proximity, a silent reaper who was biding his time and waiting for the right moment to let his blade swing. Paul placed a gentle hand on the back of Percy's neck and pulled him in, letting the heat of his own body permeate the other man's chill. Percy was trembling, Paul noticed, shivering like a leaf. Whether it was from the cold or out of some intangible, imagined threat, he had no way of knowing. Sometimes, Percy was too easily lost in his own thoughts.

"It's all right, Percy," Paul murmured, pulling him still closer. "I've got you. You're safe." Percy seemed to relax bodily then, leaning into him and winding his arms up around his neck. "You're all right," Paul said, placing a gentle kiss at Percy's temple. He pulled back, meeting his gaze with a wry smile. "Only danger out here for you is catching your death by hypothermia. It's cold as hell out here."

"Hell isn't cold," said Percy matter-of-factly. "Just in case you were unaware." The corners of his mouth twitched in what was not quite a smile.

"Sometimes I have not the slightest idea what to do with you, Percy." Percy smiled in earnest then, a rarity as it were, and stood on his tiptoes to kiss Paul. The touch of his lips was warm and surprisingly affectionate and it affected Paul in ways he'd never contemplated imaginable. "You gonna be all right now?"

"Yeah."

"You know, it's nearly dark. Why don't we get you out of the cold?"

"That seems like an agreeable notion," said Percy with a smirk. "Maybe you should do something to get me out of these damp clothes, while you're at it."

"Now, that _is_ an agreeable notion."

Percy laughed and slipped his arm into Paul's as they turned and headed up the hill toward the house, leaving the sun in the winter sky to set behind them.

**FIN**


End file.
